


Stop the Time

by Verbrennung



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, ER setting, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Iwaizumi is a macho nurse, Iwaizumi is good with kids, Iwaizumi's nurse duties include taking care of Oikawa, M/M, Oikawa is an ER doctor, he likes to pretend he minds but he doesn't, mention of the death of a patient, which is lucky because Oikawa sure can act like one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8749912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbrennung/pseuds/Verbrennung
Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime, 27, E.R. nurse at University of Tokyo Hospital. Some people think that life working in one of the biggest E.R. departments in the Tokyo metropolis must be hard - Iwaizumi thinks that if he didn't have to spend half of his time entertaining/cooking for/babysitting/avoiding one of the most ridiculous doctors to ever enter the medical profession, his job would be a piece of cake. He has a hard enough time admitting that he and Oikawa are even friends, with how much of a pain in his ass the doctor can be. By the time he figures out that he's in love with the idiot, Oikawa has driven him mad enough that he just accepts it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! This is a long one (18 pages)! I know nothing about medical professionals or how hospitals/ER departments function besides what I've seen on 'E.R.' and other hospital dramas. It's probably very obvious to all of you reading, but please excuse my ignorance!
> 
> The title is taken from the song 'We're Not Just Friends' by Parks, Squares and Alleys, which is a huge source of inspiration for me when it comes to Iwaoi. Please take a listen <3
> 
> I dedicate this fic to all my friends in Haikyuu fandom, in particular those that listen to my rants about Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Seijou (I have a lot of feelings). This was written specifically for my fellow Iwasexuals(TM) / seijou trash squad; thank you for inspiring me and memeing with me and being wonderful, I'm very grateful.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy reading :)
> 
> EDIT 02/01/17: Omfg this has been up a month and I just realised I missed off the first two paragraphs when pasting the fic over from my Google doc. Lmaoooo I'm so sorry I'm a mess

People normally dread heading back to work after a holiday, but surprisingly Iwaizumi had felt something close to relief when he’d walked through the doors bright and early this morning. The fluorescent lighting and the mania of the E.R. had welcomed him home instantly, and the immediate demand for his assistance by the rushing in of a patient with acute stomach pain left no time to dwell on how nice the break had been, and what a shame it was to be back at work.

The Emergency Room is his home, and as nice as it had been to have a couple of weeks to get away and actually have time to pursue his hobbies, there’s nothing like coming back to somewhere he’s actually needed. Where his presence means something. Where he can make a difference, whether it be big or small.

It’s been unusually busy at the hospital for a Tuesday, so it’s only around lunchtime that he finally gets a moment to breathe since he began his shift, leaning against the nurses’ station perusing a patient’s file as he waits for the clock to hit one so he can have lunch. He’s thinking about the food boxed neatly in his locker and wondering what he’s going to do about the extra portion when a co-worker calls out his name. There’s a smile in her voice, Iwaizumi can hear it, so it’s with a small sigh that he stops tapping his pen against his jaw and straightens up. “What is it?”

 

There’s a few of them standing there in front of him with mock-formality and for a moment he panics about them making a fuss over the fact he’s back with them, until he spots a head of wild brown hair behind them. Tall bastard. He’d stick out anywhere.

 

Said head perks up immediately at Iwaizumi’s question and Misaki, the co-worker who’d called out to him, smiles. “A delivery.”

 

His ‘delivery’ is already flouncing forward, Iwaizumi’s fellow nurses giggling before conspicuously vacating the area. He can’t really focus on that, not when there’s a six-foot physician draping himself over Iwaizumi’s goddamn file.

 

“Iwa-chan!” It’s that damn lilting tone – almost a childish whine, and Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa has always been this insufferable or if he likes making the extra effort just for him. As Iwaizumi has to suddenly reach to grab the stethoscope that had slipped from around Oikawa’s neck in his theatrics before it hits the floor, he knows it’s probably just the former. “You’re back! It’s already Tuesday, I thought I’d have to wait another week to see my _favourite_ nurse!”

 

Iwaizumi scoffs, waiting to respond in favour of slapping the other upside the head and telling him to get up. “You could have just asked someone, idiot,” he mutters, placing the stethoscope in its rightful place slung around Oikawa’s neck.

 

“I text you, but you wouldn’t reply to me!” That’s because Oikawa had texted him seven times the first day of his damn vacation, and Iwaizumi had decided long ago that he wasn’t paid to deal with Oikawa’s antics when he was off-duty. “And,” Oikawa’s voice quietens, sounding conspiratorial as he leans forward, “the nurses’ station is no fun when you’re not around, so no point in visiting. Nobody else yells at me for stealing the candy you all hide here.”

 

Iwaizumi takes a good look at Oikawa for the first time while he’s talking and realises he looks awful. The nurse had been on vacation for two and a half weeks or so and in that time the doctor has developed some impressive dark circles. Not only that, he’s carrying his body in the way he always does when he’s overworking himself – tense and awkward in a way that Iwaizumi couldn’t explain should he ever be asked to. He can always tell just by looking at him when something’s wrong, an unfortunate talent when Oikawa is _always_ overworking himself. 

 

“You look awful, Oikawa.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but oh well. Green eyes flicker up to the clock on the wall opposite his station; it’s near enough one o’clock that he can take his lunch break now. Oikawa pouts, ready to complain about how mean he is most likely, but Iwaizumi just raises a hand, closing the file with the other and tossing it back on the pile he’d taken it from. As fucking irritating as his workplace stalker can be, Iwaizumi hates seeing him in this state.

 

“I’ll bet you haven’t even been eating proper food at work these past couple weeks. At least tell me you’ve been trying to catch up on some of the sleep you’ve apparently been depriving yourself when you’ve been getting the chance.” He severely doubts it. Oikawa isn’t short of friends on the department; likely many of his colleagues have been trying to provide him at least a short window for some shut-eye while he’s been on call (even someone who didn’t have a shitty sixth sense for Oikawa would be able to see he’s a mess), but they all lack the willpower and physical strength to force him onto a unused cot in an empty room. It’s become one of Iwaizumi’s extra duties that his nurse status doesn’t require nor pay for, and yet somehow it’s his job anyway. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

 

An over-dramatic gasp. “Iwa-chan, did you bring me a bento today?!”

 

Iwaizumi refuses to reply to the question, pushing off the desk and heading for the staff lockers. Oikawa skips behind him, catching up to Iwaizumi’s head start in frighteningly few strides (he has legs like a fucking _gazelle_ ), softly murmuring a juvenile little song about how _‘Iwa-chan is the best nurse ever ever ever!’._

 

It’s not long before they’re sitting at their usual spot in the cafeteria, Iwaizumi annoyed at just how much fucking space Oikawa’s legs take up beneath the table (they’re literally only 5 centimetres apart in height, why does Oikawa seem to have so much more _leg?_ ) but unable to complain as usual when he sees just how happy the nuisance is when he opens the extra bento Iwaizumi had brought to see a thoughtfully balanced meal prepared. There are many sides to Oikawa – this is something Iwaizumi has learned over the year or so since Oikawa became a fixture in the hospital. He’s a fantastic doctor, bright and personable and damn good at his job. He’s also a menace who’s unable to look after himself, inexplicably unable to impart the same judgement he affords patients on his own condition and limits. He can stay calm under immense stress, yet still has the capacity to flounce around the E.R. making a spectacle of himself to cheer up everyone else around him if they need it. He’s terrifically talented, with the skill of a man who’s been doing his job a lot longer than he actually has, but still gets excited at a new choice of candy bar in the vending machines or the fact Iwaizumi made him lunch again.

 

“Iwa-chan.” It’s that annoying voice, the last vowel elongated in the way that tells Iwaizumi (and everyone else nearby) that Oikawa is unhappy with the response he’s getting – or in this case, not getting at all. “Are you listening?”

 

“No, why would I?”

 

Oikawa snorts, setting down his blue Doraemon chopsticks atop his matching bento box. Iwaizumi had bought it from the 100-yen shop as a joke once making lunch for the both of them had become a regular thing, a snide comment on how Oikawa could be such a damn child. Of course, Oikawa hadn’t ever taken offence and had instead loved it unironically from the very beginning. “Wow, okay. I was trying to be a good friend and ask you how your holiday was.” He pauses, big brown eyes looking up at the dirty ceiling tiles and fluorescent lights, sighing dreamily. More theatrics. “What an amazing concept, a ‘holiday’~”

 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, picking up a piece of broccoli with his own chopsticks, pointing it at Oikawa accusingly. “You could take a holiday if you actually wanted to, idiot.” While it’s true they’re hardly swimming in doctors here, it isn’t like they couldn’t spare Oikawa for a week or two to give him some much-needed time to recover. Or do whatever it is Oikawa enjoys doing when he’s not at the hospital. There’d been an instance a few months prior where Oikawa had been forced into taking a week’s vacation from the powers that be upstairs and the doctor had not been happy about it, even if he had looked much better when he’d returned, making a scene in the middle of the E.R. by actually _leaping into the air_ and latching onto Iwaizumi from behind, almost sending them both crashing to the ground.

 

“It was good, though. Camped with my buddy for a few days; climbed Mt Fuji again since it had been a while. Got in some good gym time” – he ignores Oikawa’s scoff at that – “and binge-watched plenty TV from the couch. I forgot what it’s like to actually relax. It was nice.” When he glances up, Oikawa’s terrifying eyes are fixated on him (only terrifying when they’re so _focused_ and all-seeing), and there’s a small smile on his face that leaves Iwaizumi confused as to whether he should be relieved or even more concerned.

 

“Hm, that’s good~ Is it selfish to say I’m glad you’re back, though?” Oikawa’s still smiling, though it’s lost its odd sweetness now his shoulders have hunched over and and he’s looking down at his lunch.

 

“You say that like you’re not a selfish brat all the damn time,” Iwaizumi responds, nudging Oikawa’s calf with his foot. “But I’m glad I’m back too. Kind of missed the place - there’s nothing like running around, yelling _and_ getting yelled at all day.” Oikawa grins in agreement, eyes closing for a second, hair shifting as he tilts his head to the side. It _isn’t_ cute. Iwaizumi shoves some rice in his own mouth, chewing with a sudden, random irritation.

 

~~~

 

Forty-five minutes later they’re right back at it, walking back into the ER side by side when the emergency telephone rings, all the staff pausing at the sound for a moment before Michimiya hurries over to accept the call and fill out the form. “Oikawa-sensei,” she calls out as soon as the phone is back in its cradle since he’s the closest doctor. “Thirty nine year-old female, cyclist collision with a car. Broken femur with suspected internal and spinal injuries.” Iwaizumi feels Oikawa tense beside him. Michimiya flicks the switch of the intercom mic for the Emergency Room. “Incoming emergency, ETA 7 minutes by helipad.”

 

That’s bad. Everyone who listens to the brief knows that, and the E.R. stills for a moment as everyone takes a collected inhale. Oikawa tugs on both ends of the stethoscope around his neck (something he always does to prepare himself before a big call) then catches Iwaizumi’s eye. Neither of them bother wasting words, Iwaizumi simply nodding in reply to Oikawa’s unspoken question, already splitting off from the doctor as Oikawa finally speaks up. “Alright,” he says, clapping his hands and smiling like they aren’t about to deal with a woman in a very bad situation, as he scans what he can see of the E.R. to see who is free. 

 

“Watari, with me.” Iwaizumi glances back from where another nurse and one of the porters, a grumpy guy called Kyoutani, are helping him prepare a gurney to take up to the roof. The junior doctor looks worried – he’s been shadowing Oikawa for a couple months now, but helicopter calls aren’t all that common so he’s yet to experience one. Oikawa pats his shoulder and briefs him on procedure for accepting helicopter drop-offs, and Iwaizumi huffs at how strangely well mentoring suits Oikawa. He comes across as a silly guy - and he is, if Iwaizumi is to be blunt - but he’s also a patient and thorough teacher. Watari is in good hands, just as the woman being transported to their hospital will be. “Everyone else, make the appropriate preparations to receive the patient down here.” He sends a nod to Sawamura, another ER doctor who’d arrived to the scene late and had been reading the form over Michimiya’s slight shoulder. Iwaizumi’s group of three joins Oikawa and Watari at the elevator where they make the final checks to see if they have everything they need before filing inside. Oikawa inserts and turns the key needed to access the rooftop level, and then they’re going up.

 

Up, up, up -- this is the worst part of a helipad handover. The large elevator seems confining, the metal walls almost seeming to close in to amplify the anxiety and adrenaline swirling in the air. The light overhead flickers once, twice, as they surge upwards. Iwaizumi ignores Watari fiddling with his doctor’s coat, I.D. badge and whatever else his fingers can mess with in favour of staring at Oikawa’s face in the oddly dim artificial light. It’s in these moments that Oikawa ceases to look so young, his face set in calm determination, hazel eyes trained on the door. He looks every bit the qualified, skilled doctor he is; like his glittering reputation is entirely believable. The elevator jolts to a stop and Iwaizumi shakes himself out of his stupor, the widening slice of sunlight splitting through the metal doors causing everyone to wince before the shuddering roar of the helicopter even registers in their heads. There’s a single second of hesitation and then Oikawa is striding out onto the roof, the wind strong enough at this height to send his white doctor’s coat flapping behind him dramatically with each step. Iwaizumi and Kyoutani take that as their cue, forcing the gurney forward from the rear in sync, literally pushing everyone else into movement as they hurry towards the patient that needs them. The transition from heli to hospital gurney is thankfully a smooth one, and they work to secure the patient as one of the heli crew begins his account of the accident, injuries and emergency treatment given. Between the pounding of blood in his ears and the thunderous hum of the helicopter, Iwaizumi can hardly make out the handover but Oikawa is leaning close, nodding and asking quick, concise questions so he sees no reason to panic. This is Oikawa’s patient, and everything is under control as it always is on his watch.

 

Just like that they’re turning on their heels and guiding her back into the elevator, heading down, down, down to the familiar territory of the E.R. The buzz of noise that greets them once the elevator opens its doors and releases them from their confines is a familiar one, comforting in its volume that seems nothing compared to the ear-splitting static boom of the rooftop still rattling around in their ears. As they wheel the patient into the emergency treatment area they’re joined by more staff, Oikawa immediately taking control of the floor and bringing all the necessary elements of the treatment together, orchestrating them all flawlessly in a well-practiced routine. It’s non-stop for what could easily be minutes or hours, Iwaizumi being instructed to complete task after task just like everyone else, until the patient is as stable as she can be so soon after such a trauma. It’s then that everything seems to slow down again, the amount of bodies buzzing around the room reducing until it’s just Iwaizumi and another nurse doing a few routine checks to ensure no more harm will come to the battered and bruised women lying on the hospital bed.

 

There’s a small commotion outside, and Iwaizumi turns his head from a machine he’d been checking to see Michimiya entering the room, with what Iwaizumi can only assume is the patient’s immediate family in tow: a middle-aged man in a suit, handsome but ghastly pale (husband) and a little boy, no more than 8 years old and clinging to his father’s much larger hand (son). This is another part of emergency medical care that Iwaizumi hates; the heart-splitting moment when a family sees their loved one so broken and still so fragile for the first time. The man sobs but the son’s reaction is all the more visceral - before they all know it there’s yelling, then wailing, then a small hand being torn from a loose grip as he turns and sprints from the room, footsteps frantic and terrified. 

 

Iwaizumi speaks up before the distraught husband even has time to react. “I’ll go, stay here with your wife.”

 

He’s had years of experience of witnessing this particular kind of heartbreak, but Hajime still can’t comprehend how it must feel. Right now he knows the man back in the treatment room can barely handle his own emotions nevermind find and cope with his hysterical young son even if he wants to. He imagines the little boy must be terrified, being so young and seeing the woman who he’s been with his whole life in such a bad way. Iwaizumi isn’t bad with kids and besides, he’s probably the only one who knows every good hiding place in the first three floors of this hospital wing.

 

There’s a small alcove between two rows of plastic seating two corridors away and Iwaizumi spots the toes of a muddy pair of sneakers poking out from the hiding spot. He approaches slowly, light on his feet, and makes the extra effort of trying to smooth the natural scowl that seems to have made a home on his face (“makes you look _so_ unfriendly, Iwa-chan!~”). Crouching down, he does his best to ignore the awkward stretching of his scrubs against his thighs and knees, resting his forearms on the taut fabric.

 

The kid beats him to the punch of starting a conversation: “I’m not going back in there! You can’t make me!”

 

Iwaizumi isn’t going to make him do anything, and makes that much very clear before he begins with a safer topic of conversation. “That’s fine. What’s your name?”

 

“Kenta.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Kenta-kun. I’m Hajime, one of the nurses looking after your mother.”

 

He knows what’s coming next even before Kenta’s nose screws up in confusion. “But all nurses are girls.” God dammit, just who was shoving this information at kids? This was the reason he found himself having to defend his profession to virtually every adult he ever crossed paths with. Still, he’d long since learned that getting frustrated about it did nothing.

 

“Well that can’t be true, can it? Because I’m a nurse and I’m definitely not a girl.”

 

Kenta surveys him with a gaze that is nothing short of discerning, despite the tears still gathered in his eyes. He seems to accept Hajime’s statement (thankfully) and like that, that particular topic is dropped. Iwaizumi shuffles a little in his work shoes, feeling a little self-conscious at being hunkered down in the middle of a hospital hallway, appearing to be talking to a wall should anyone spot him from either end.

 

“Do you know what happened to your mom? Were you there?”

 

It’s not his job to ask these sorts of questions, and he’s probably (definitely) not qualified to do so, but he’s learnt over the years that this is just another part of emergency healthcare. He gets a shake of the head from Kenta. “Daddy picked me up from school after work. We didn’t know she was hurt until the police called. Daddy started crying while he was on the phone.”

 

Iwaizumi nods solemnly. “That must have been scary.” A hesitation at showing weakness, even from a boy so young, and then a nod of the head. Iwaizumi continues. “She was riding her bike and got hit by a car.” He glances at the watch pinned to the front of his scrubs, and licks his lips as he thinks about his wording. He can’t say much more about the details, because truthfully he doesn’t know either. “I won’t lie to you, because you’re a big boy, right?” Another nod. “She was hurt pretty bad, Kenta-kun. But she’ll be okay.”

 

There’s a little sniffle from Kenta before he looks up at Iwaizumi, hopeful.

 

“How do you know?”

 

Iwaizumi smiles.

 

“Will you let me show you something?”

 

~~~

 

It doesn't take them long to make it back into the heart of the E.R., and when Kenta realises it he digs his heels in and refuses to go any further, clinging the bottom of Iwaizumi’s tunic. “I said I don't wanna go back in there!” The last thing Iwaizumi wants is for the boy to become distressed again, so he's quick to try to calm him down. “We won't go back in until you're ready, I promise,” he placates, ignoring the looks they're getting from the people around them at the commenting and instead leans down to Kenta’s level. “We’re friends, right?” A nod from the kid, which Iwaizumi returns before initiating a fistbump. “Okay, good. Well friends trust each other, right? So trust me. I’m just gonna show you something.”

 

Oikawa isn't hard to spot, as annoyingly tall as he is and with a perfectly-styled head of hair that just can't be mistaken for anyone else. He's leaving the room Kenta’s mother is in with purpose, white coat fluttering behind him in the wake of his long strides as he approaches a desk to discuss charts and vitals and further treatment with Michimiya and Sawamura. 

 

Iwaizumi pulls Kenta to the side so they're not in the way of the people bustling around the area, then squats next to him, identifying Oikawa in the small group just a little ways away from them with his pointer finger. “That's Oikawa-sensei, he's the doctor currently looking after your mom.”

 

A small hand settles his shoulder, but Hajime is too busy spotting the exact moment Oikawa shifts his attention from his conversation with his other colleagues to Iwaizumi to react otherwise. He feels his heart stutter at the fact Oikawa is close enough to hear what he has to say. Kenta shuffles, the small hand squeezing Iwaizumi’s shoulder for a second as he squirms. “With the stupid hair?” Iwaizumi actually almost chokes on his laughter.” He sees Oikawa’s shoulders hike up at the insult; clearly he can hear. “He's what you wanted to show me?”

 

“Mhm. You see, Oikawa-sensei is my … friend.” God dammit, he was never going to hear the end of this. “And he's one of the best doctors in this whole hospital.” All three of his colleagues are paying attention now but trying not to show it, and Oikawa is actively trying not to watch out of the corner of his eye. Things are about to get pretty embarrassing pretty fast for Iwaizumi, but he’s willing to take the hit if it helps the little boy by his side feel less scared. “There are a lot of doctors at this hospital, and I know a bunch of them, but -” Sawamura clears his throat and turns to say something inane to Michimiya so it at least looks like they aren’t eavesdropping. “But if I was sick or hurt, he would be the one I'd want to take care of me.”

 

“Really? He looks kind of dumb.”

 

There’s a strangled noise as Sawamura chokes on his sudden laugh, and Michimiya is now guffawing behind her clipboard. Iwaizumi gives an amused huff at the comment himself, grinning at the pair’s reaction _and_ the way Oikawa’s body tenses up even more.

 

“Really. He's super smart, even though he doesn't look it. And I know he's gonna take good care of your mom and do everything he can to make her better again, alright?” He turns to Kenta and smiles, resting a large hand atop his head, fingers ruffling silky black strands. “So do you think you can try and trust Oikawa-sensei and the other doctors and nurses like you trust me?” Iwaizumi knows he will, because he's a good kid. “It’s okay to be scared. It's not nice seeing someone you love hurt. But I think your dad is really scared too, and he's all alone in there right now.”

 

He watches, heart seizing, as Kenta’s bottom lip trembles before his little fists clench at his sides. 

 

“Hajime, I think I'm ready to be brave now.”

 

~~~

 

Iwaizumi heads off on his break a while later to the sight of Kenta huddled up in his father’s lap next to his mother’s bedside. He really had been brave, but the stress had eventually worn him out and pulled him into a heavy sleep - Iwaizumi suspected his father wouldn’t be too far behind him. With a mental note to check on him later and then hunt for some of the nurses’ secret candies to give him, he moves to the break room and reaches into the fridge to grab one of his yoghurts to keep him going. There are a couple other members of staff dotted about the room and plenty more will come and go in the next half hour, so when the door opens behind him, Iwaizumi hardly bats an eyelid as he scoops a spoonful of yoghurt up.

 

The same can’t be said for the moment someone flounces right up behind him and wraps their freakishly long (and strong) arms around his chest.

 

“Fucking _hell_ Shittykawa, you almost made me choke on my spoon!” is his immediate reprimand once he’s managed to force the mouthful down his throat.

 

“Oh, you’re being so dramatic, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa’s cooing is annoying whatever the time, but _especially_ when Iwaizumi is supposed to be on a damn break. He turns his head to send Oikawa a deadly look from the corner of his eye, but it’s only met with the most affable smile. “How can you expect me to hold back when you said so many nice things about me before?!”

 

Face suddenly hot, Iwaizumi shoves Oikawa off him and pointedly swallows another huge mouthful of yoghurt to distract himself. Oikawa snorts at the reaction and then turns to the three other people sitting on the sofas across the room, spreading his arms wide and yelling “Nurse Iwaizumi Hajime complimented me, the humble and hard-working Oikawa-sensei!~~”

 

Iwaizumi can feel his face adopt the sour look that seems to come easily to him in Oikawa’s presence, finishing off his yoghurt and throwing the used pot in the trash. The spoon clatters in the sink to be dealt with in a minute, and then he’s pointing Oikawa to the nearest table with a dark look that’s basically an order to obey. Oikawa does, smile brightening when he sees his favourite nurse turn to the coffee machine to brew them each a strong cup. The doctor looks like he needs it, hair almost seeming to droop as it often does once he gets to a certain point in his long shifts. Hajime’s suspicions are only confirmed when he turns around with their favourite mugs full of hot coffee to see Oikawa with his chin in his hands, his previous pep all gone and leaving him mellower than before when he smiles up at Iwaizumi in thanks.

 

“You were great with that little boy before,” he says softly, drawing his ‘Dr Handsome’ mug closer to himself with his free hand. Iwaizumi only huffs in minor embarrassment, shrugging his shoulders as he glances at the TV behind Oikawa’s shoulder. It’s the news, but the volume is low and he can’t read the text scrolling at the bottom of the screen from this far away. Whatever’s being reported on is a complete mystery to him. Oikawa’s legs nudge his under the table, and though he can’t tell if it was accidental or not it still redirects his attention back to the other. “And what you said really was nice. It meant a lot, so thank you.”

 

Iwaizumi might complain about every annoying thing he has to deal with just by virtue of being in Oikawa’s presence, but he thinks he might actually hate these oddly-serious moments they share together the most. It feels intimate; like something he’s not totally able to cope with right now. 

 

“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” he murmurs into the steaming liquid he’s holding up to his lips, eyes finding the welcome distraction of the TV screen again as he takes a sip. It wasn’t as if he could take it back - he’d been earnest. Denying it would be a lie, and Hajime isn’t a liar. 

 

~~~

 

Twenty four hours later sees Iwaizumi back at the hospital and Kenta’s mother on the road to recovery after a surgery - thankfully, no additional serious injuries had been incurred on top of the nasty break to her femur, just cuts and bruises and soreness that would take a while to heal but thankfully would leave no lasting damage. Kenta had been ecstatic to receive some candies and a sticker for being brave from Iwaizumi on his second visit to the hospital, and Hajime was pleased to see he showed no more hesitance at being in the hospital or visiting his mother. It’s a relief for Iwaizumi, who finds himself glad the family can begin to recover now.

 

The week passes pretty quickly after that - and though the hospital E.R. sees their fair share in accidents and injuries, Iwaizumi finds himself glad that there isn’t another case that gets him so invested as Kenta’s mother had on his first day back. This way he can concentrate fully on doing his job; the thing he’d trained so hard for and invested so much in. 

 

And surprisingly enough, it lasts until the end of his shift. Unfortunately, the moment he thinks he’s _finally_ free of his duties, perusing the meagre selection of chocolate bars in a quiet corridor’s vending machine before he leaves for home, a large, dark shadow looms over him from behind. Iwaizumi would know that presence anywhere, so it’s with a quiet sigh he makes his selection, stooping to grab his chocolate out of the tray before turning around and nodding in greeting. “Ushijima-sensei, what can I do for you today?”

 

Ushijima only ever seeks Hajime out when he wants something, and he can say confidently that nine times out of ten, that has something to do with--

 

“Oikawa.”

 

Of course. Iwaizumi makes a sound that’s a mockery of a curious hum (he doesn’t _want_ to know what’s coming), attention more focused on unwrapping his snack because he’s getting the feeling that soon his tiny bubble of peace is going to go ‘pop’ and he should relish in it while he can. 

 

Ushijima’s shoes are always so fucking shiny it’s actually kind of distracting, because Iwazumi always finds his gaze pulled down to them, immediately comparing them with his own beat up work sneakers. Glancing up and away from the immaculate brogues, Hajime can see that today Ushijima is wearing a purple tie to compliment his suit. It’s a nice colour on him. The doctor looks immaculate as always - fitting for a career man with a lot of responsibilities and ambitions. He and Oikawa trained together, or so Iwaizumi has gathered from some of Oikawa’s half-conscious mumbled rants about the man over the time he’s known him. Ushijima feels that if Oikawa just applied himself and stopped burning himself out in the E.R. constantly he could be like just like him, a top consultant, the head of a department already and still on the way up. Ushijima is a fantastic surgeon, frightfully intelligent with innate ability, destined to sit at the top of the hospital and call the shots. He’s a different breed to Oikawa and Iwaizumi, who love the frenetic energy of the E.R.; who love constantly working and always seeing the results of their efforts. It’s a different kind of gratification they get from the job. Iwaizumi has no doubt that Oikawa will start climbing the ranks eventually (at a frightening pace no doubt) but there’s time yet. Iwaizumi doesn’t think about what will happen when that time comes and the gap between their ranks widens even more.

 

Banishing the thought with a savage chomp through the candy he’d been ignoring in his musings, Iwaizumi doesn’t even bother to wait to swallow his mouthful before asking: “what’s he done this time?”

 

Ushijima’s gaze bores straight into Hajime’s eyes with no respite - an unfortunate habit he has during social exchanges that the nurse will never feel particularly comfortable with. “It’s more what he hasn’t done. When’s the last time he slept properly?” Iwaizumi shrugs because hell if he knows. Contrary to popular belief, he’s not actually Oikawa’s minder and they aren’t together 24/7.

 

Unfortunately, enough people believe it to be true that Iwaizumi is always asked to handle Oikawa when he’s being particularly unruly or stubborn - or worse, a danger to himself. Ushijima is checking his iPhone - probably some important meeting reminder or email notification - so Iwaizumi is free to relax now he’s out of the man’s arresting gaze, even if he’s still not out of this conversation.

 

“There are enough doctors to cover him for a while. Get him to have some rest for now, I don’t care what you have to do. He’s going to kill himself at this rate.” His eyes snap back to Iwaizumi as he pockets his phone. “Or someone else.” Then he’s gone, perfect shoes clicking on the clean linoleum floor.

 

The taller man isn’t Iwaizumi’s boss - or Oikawa’s - but Iwaizumi doesn’t bother trying to remind him that ‘Oikawa babysitter’ isn’t in his job description, or that he’s technically off the clock. Even if Iwaizumi had thought to make it a little more obvious he was finished work by changing out of his scrubs before grabbing a snack, Ushijima still would have cornered him. Half of him wants to refuse, since Oikawa is a grown man, but he knows how Oikawa can get sometimes, and Ushijima’s parting words are still echoing in his head.

 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, tossing his half-eaten candy in the trash and heading back into the E.R.

 

 

It’s not hard to find Oikawa. He’s making the rounds in the cubicles, checking on people while it’s quiet enough to do so, and Iwaizumi immediately sighs. He can tell already that the doctor looks like total shit. He also knows from experience that this isn’t going to be easy. 

 

“Iwaizumi?? Thought you were finished?” He turns his head to the side and catches Terushima, a fellow male nurse, throwing him a confused look. 

 

“I am,” he responds, unclipping his nurse I.D. and shoving it into the pocket of his pants like that’s going to make a damn bit of difference. “Ushijima found me before I could leave” he nods his head in the direction of Oikawa, who’s giving his temples a quick rub while he thinks no one is looking. Terushima follows the gesture and gives an exasperated shrug in return - everyone here knows what the doctor can be like. “I was wondering when someone was gonna risk intervening. I’ll let the other docs know, good luck.”

 

Hajime doesn’t believe in luck. That particular fantasy had died the day he was put to work in the same environment as Oikawa Tooru and the doctor decided to announce him as his favourite nurse. Iwaizumi had been severely unlucky since then.

 

Confident that Terushima would pass the message on soon enough and that Oikawa’s duties would be covered, he doesn’t hesitate in marching forward and grabbing Oikawa’s arm, pulling him abruptly away from all the hustle and bustle.

 

“Iwa-chan!!” Is the indignant squawk he gets in response, Oikawa’s long limbs scrabbling to keep up with Iwaizumi’s brisk pace. “You can’t just abduct me, I’m important!!” Iwaizumi can’t help but snort at that. “I am!! And-- hey, aren’t you supposed to club me over the head first and then throw me over your shoulder?!” It’s hardly the time or the place for caveman jokes, not when the people they pass are sending concerned looks their way. Only a little pink in the face from embarrassment, Hajime does his best to ignore Oikawa’s protests, thankful that the doctor is apparently tired enough to not use his own physical advantages (namely height and limb-length) to escape from Hajime’s grasp.

 

There’s a little door in a nook at the far end of the E.R., between a medicine cabinet and a storage cage for bed linen which leads to possibly the most important room in the department. ...Well, it’s more of a closet really. It was previously used exclusively for storage, but Hajime has only ever known it since it was cleared out or well, mostly cleared out; the shelves that span one of the walls are still fully stocked with boxes of latex gloves and rolls of paper towels and other miscellaneous equipment. Regardless, at some point a cot was placed in here, so now the room is used on occasion for private examinations for victims of certain attacks or abuse, but mostly it’s a quiet place where on-call doctors can grab some quick rest before the next serious case gets called in.

 

It’s in here Iwaizumi shoves Oikawa, following him in and shutting the door behind him, crossing his arms in front of his chest to prepare for the resistance. Apparently his push was a little too vigorous, because Oikawa nearly fell straight onto the cot - if the hands pressed into the thin mattress to steady himself are anything to go by. Another warning sign: Oikawa might not have been as wide or obviously built as Iwaizumi, but he was still sturdy enough. Either Iwaizumi greatly misjudged the force of his motion, or Oikawa lacks the strength to successfully resist even a gentle shove.

 

Either way, Oikawa is pissed when he brings himself back to a stand and turns to glare at Iwaizumi. Of course he knows why Iwaizumi has brought him here, it’s happened too many times now. “This is ridiculous,” he argues immediately, stepping close to Iwaizumi, “I’m _fine_ and I told Ushiwaka as much when he came swanning through the E.R. to stick his nose in my business as usual.”

 

Oikawa being this defensive means that even he doesn’t fully believe his own words.

 

“I’m not having this argument with you,” Hajime interjects, unfolding his arms and holding a hand up to try and placate the disgruntled doctor in front of him. “I can tell by looking at you that you’re exhausted.” Oikawa’s face falls - he spends that much time bragging about how well he knows Iwa-chan that he can’t deny the fact it goes both ways, and they both know it. “You’re no help to anyone like this. And you should know everyone else enough to trust that they can run the E.R. without you long enough to give you a break.”

 

Oikawa pouts, dropping onto the cot with a dramatic huff that makes him look like an overgrown child in a doctor’s coat. “Fifteen minutes,” he bargains, his tone heavy with finality as he takes off said coat, shoving it into space on a shelf, the stethoscope always hanging around his neck following suit. There’s only so much reasoning Iwaizumi can be successful with when Oikawa’s like this so he simply obliges - the way the other is carrying himself tells Iwaizumi that if he falls asleep, he’s tired enough that he’ll be out for at least thirty minutes. The hard part is getting him to that point.

 

Happy that his duty has been fulfilled, Hajime turns to open the door so he can finally go home. Sadly, a spindly arm crosses the small gap from bed to door easily, long fingers twisting into the back of Iwaizumi’s scrubs. “Iwa-chan,” Oikawa calls across the space, tiredness already bleeding into his voice now he’s horizontal. “I’ll sleep better if you stay.”

 

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” Key to bargaining with Oikawa is being nice about it, but he can’t help snapping when Oikawa just has the knack for being so damn ridiculous. “Some of us would rather not spend our whole lives here. You know my shift is over, right? I actually want to go home to sleep. In a comfy bed.”

 

Oikawa’s fingers only tighten, tugging him once in a stubborn request. “Fifteen minutes,” he urges, voice sounding oddly strained for someone who was so against taking a nap a couple of minutes ago. “It’s too sterile in here otherwise, I won’t be able to turn my brain off.”

 

It’s not something that’s done. Especially not by Iwaizumi. Other than the fact it’s simply inappropriate for colleagues to spoon on a single bed on hospital property when one of them is still on duty, this is going to make whatever weird, uncomfortable thing that has been growing between them recently even worse. Still, desperate times call for desperate measures. He really doesn’t want Oikawa to collapse, or break down, or endanger anyone including himself. With a sigh he removes his hand from the door handle and flicks off the light before forcibly removing Oikawa’s grip from the synthetic material of his uniform. “Fine. Scoot back and don’t say another fucking word until I’m out of this hospital.”

 

It’s embarrassing and a little uncomfortable, and Hajime’s cheeks are burning as he sets his stiff frame down on the crisp sheets of the cot. Oikawa seems a lot more relaxed, having the audacity to scooch forward a little so his knees nudge the back of Hajime’s, his warm breath brushing the short hairs at the base of Hajime’s skull.

 

He doesn’t keep his mouth shut either, muttering a sleepy ‘night, Iwa-chan’ as he slings an arm over the nurse, settling into a deep slumber. It’s not until Michimiya comes knocking for him forty minutes later, less surprised at the position she finds them in and more apologetic that she has to break it up, that Hajime realises he’d fallen dead asleep, too.

 

~~~

 

Tragedy strikes on a Thursday afternoon. Well, if he’s honest, death and the like are a common feature of his working week, but Iwaizumi should have been preparing for something big to happen. Oikawa had been working like man possessed for weeks, staying at the hospital later than he should and pouring himself into the work just like he was prone to. Iwaizumi forcing him into much needed rest on a few occasions wasn’t going to cure the toxic mess of stress and exhaustion that was building inside Oikawa - something had to give, and eventually it did.

 

He and Oikawa are having their usual ‘lunch date’ (words of Oikawa), their legs somehow tangled under the table _again_ when their conversation (argument) about which Kamen Rider is the best is cut short by the shrill beeping of Oikawa’s pager. The doctor withdraws his long legs as he pulls the device from his waistband to observe the message, and Iwaizumi ignores how cold his ankles suddenly feel, instead sitting to attention as he waits for information.

 

The way Oikawa’s expression shifts to something altogether more serious and maybe even a little anxious tells Iwaizumi enough. Still, he stays quiet when Oikawa looks up at him with big brown eyes and immediately rushes to a stand, knowing he won’t even need to ask. “They need me for an incoming patient,” he explains in a rush, grabbing his doctor’s coat from the back of the rickety cafeteria chair. It must be bad if they’ve paged Oikawa knowing he’s actually taking his lunch break today - it means they need his particular expertise in trauma medicine, or they at least need another doctor attending. Iwaizumi makes to stand as well but Oikawa rounds the table and keeps him sitting on his chair with a firm hand on his shoulder. “There’ll be enough nurses around, Hajime. Stay. One of us might as well get a break, right?” There’s a bitter chuckle and then Oikawa is sweeping out of the cafeteria with his usual grace. Iwaizumi watches him for a moment before sighing, turning back to the pair of half-finished bento lunches he’d prepared. He knows which of them needed the break the most, and it wasn’t him. The noise around him seems to fade back into his consciousness now the gravitation of Oikawa’s presence is gone, and he picks up another slice of beef with his chopsticks. He’s not happy about staying here, but it probably is for the best. Too many bodies can be just as hazardous as too few. There was one thing in particular about Oikawa’s words that bothered him, though.

 

...“Hajime”, huh?

 

~~~

 

It doesn’t go well.

 

Hajime still comes back from lunch fifteen minutes early, though true to Oikawa’s word there are plenty of staff in attendance for whatever emergency call he’d been summoned to, so all Iwaizumi gets a glimpse of is a gaggle of frantic staff surrounding a bed and Oikawa up to his elbows in blood at the centre of it, hands and mouth steady but his eyes giving away all of his worry. Iwaizumi halts at the door before cursing at himself under his breath, forcing himself to move away and to somewhere he can actually _contribute_ rather than just causing a nuisance.

 

He can hear the commotion as it continues, shouted orders and feet running in and out of the room, and then as Iwaizumi is swinging by the nurses’ station close by, all the noise dies along with the patient.

 

Iwaizumi can tell in the jarring stillness, in the way he sees Michimiya’s shoulders slump as she stands facing the table, her back to the window he can see her through. Everyone’s still as someone (probably Oikawa) calls the time of death, and then people begin to file out, slow and morose, to begin the necessary procedures that come with such an awful eventuality or to move onto the next patient. His feet are taking him away from the desk towards the room before he realises it, but Sawamura is calling for him to assist from the other side of the E.R. and Iwaizumi can’t ignore that. Yet again he tears himself from the mysterious pull that has him needing to be Oikawa’s side, and carries out his duty as a nurse in this hospital.

 

A little while later, when things have calmed down, he catches the hushed voices of Misaki and Terushima discussing how awful Oikawa-sensei had looked and how he’d made some faux-airy excuse to have a break. Iwaizumi knows exactly where he’s gone and this time he doesn’t stop himself from going where Oikawa needs him.

 

Iwaizumi knows that sometimes, when you end up in tears after losing a patient it isn't even because you had particularly invested yourself in that person, or spent that much time treating them, or known them that well. Sometimes it's just the stress of the job, or the non-stop working, or the lack of sleep. It’s any and all of those things, as well as the collective feeling of helplessness, of hopelessness, at losing one too many because sometimes all that knowledge - all those years of studying and training - just isn't enough to save someone. Injuries and conditions can hide or worsen in an instant, and sometimes-- Sometimes, your best just isn't enough. 

Iwaizumi freezes in the doorway of the storage room turned staff bedroom, eyes frozen on Oikawa's hunched form perched on the side of the bed. Of course Oikawa is just like everyone else, is prone to that same feeling of frustration and failure every other medical professional falls victim to now and again. Without looking he quietly shuts the door behind him, stepping forward and wrapping his hand around the back of Oikawa's head to pull him towards his chest. "There's nothing more you could have done for him," he says softly, the mantra sounding almost hollow with how often everyone at this hospital says it to each other. It's still true though - there had been no way of knowing if the patient would be able to withstand the trauma and the emergency treatment until it was clear he couldn't and his body began to shut down. Iwaizumi didn’t know the specifics, but he had seen the effort that Oikawa - that _everyone_ \- had put into the emergency care. There was no way Oikawa would have a patient put in front of him and not do his absolute best to help them. 

"I know," Oikawa murmurs eventually, and only then does Iwaizumi realise the doctor has wound his arms around him, holding onto fistfuls of his scrubs. "It's just-- you come into this job to save people. And because you want to save them so bad, every time you don't feels like a failure. It feels like a punch to the gut." He pulls back but doesn't let go of Iwaizumi, and when he straightens, Iwaizumi can see the crystalline tracks down his cheeks from his earlier tears, as well as those yet unshed gathered just under those wonderfully expressive brown irises. "And it makes you wonder what makes you think you can save anyone. It makes you doubt your abilities every time, you know?" 

Iwaizumi doesn’t know, not exactly. He’s ‘just’ a nurse; it's rare that he's the person holding someone's life in his hands, up to the elbows in blood, or making the important decisions for a patient’s care. But he knows what it's like to see treatment fail, to have someone die in front of his eyes, or return to a bed during his rounds and find they've already slipped away; all in his care. Those times, Iwaizumi has felt the sadness of a death, but not what Oikawa is describing. Iwaizumi isn't prone to the critical self-doubt Oikawa falls prey to, has thankfully never felt actually responsible for a death. He isn't given the chance, in his job. He doesn't want it. 

He can’t stand the thought of Oikawa feeling like he isn’t good enough. "You're a fantastic doctor," he says quietly, though it holds that patent aggression Oikawa likes to complain about or make fun of, because Iwaizumi is passionate about this. He _needs_ Oikawa to know that this is true. "I've seen you save countless lives - many more than have been lost. You can't save everyone, y’know? You can't force a heart to beat again, or force a brain bleed to stop or swelling to ease out of sheer will alone."

God dammit. He hated this. “And while we’re at it, you need to stop taking everything on alone. You have a pretty great team here, you know? You could stand to lean on us every once in a while. The blame isn’t yours to bear this time, it isn’t anyone’s. Maybe it was his time.” Iwaizumi hates that cliche, because of course they want to save everyone, that’s why they chose their paths in the first place. Gently, ever so gently, with a nervous breath held in his lungs, Iwaizumi reaches out to brush those tear tracks away with calloused thumbs. It's so intimate, and as Oikawa stares up with those glittering eyes, his large hands twisting further into the thin material of Iwaizumi's scrubs, Iwaizumi thinks _fuck_ \- friends don't do that. 

Friends don't wipe away each other's tears, especially not so tenderly. They don't prepare meals for each other every day, or tangle their legs together beneath rickety cafeteria tables, or sit together so close their thighs touch at after-work drinks, or spoon on shitty hospital beds. They don't overwork themselves while the other is on vacation just to fill the time, or give each other pet names, or call in the early hours of the morning on their break because they miss you even if you just spoke yesterday. 

 

 

...Shit, Iwaizumi is in love with Oikawa. 

 

 

And he's pretty sure Oikawa is in love with him too.

 

 

 

He can tell that Oikawa knows he knows, because how could he not see every damn emotion the other is feeling when he’s looking so deep into those ever-expressive eyes? Regardless, now isn’t the right time. Iwaizumi lets out a quiet breath and forces himself to step back. “I can buy you some time,” he says, tone even more gentle now, mentally railing against his earth-shattering revelation. “Fifteen minutes, maybe. But there are patients out there who need you; staff, too. So take some time and then I’ll see you back out there, Doctor. Your shift isn’t over yet.” Oikawa opens his mouth to say something, but the nurse doesn’t give him the chance.

 

Blinking as he steps back into the brightly-lit corridor, Iwaizumi shuts the door behind himself, giving Oikawa the time alone he needs to pull himself around. He feels unsteady for a moment, not unlike when he’s climbing hills and mountains and starts to feel the altitude. But unlike then, he takes a deep breath in and the feeling falls away. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, this isn’t as much of a surprise as he’d thought seconds ago. In fact, he gets the distinct feeling he’s known for a long time.

 

“Everything okay?” It’s Misaki that passes him in the hallway, pretty brown eyes blinking at the look on Iwaizumi’s face, which in turn jolts him out of his trance. He’s always liked her. She’s strong-willed and can bring anyone into line even if at first glance she comes across as a bit of a wallflower. Iwaizumi trusts her because she always tells it like it is, and even if she’s passionate she can keep a cool head if she needs to. That’s why Iwaizumi stops himself from waving her off in dismissal.

 

“Me and Oikawa-” Her brow raises. “We’re not just friends, are we?”

 

She looks at him for a long second and then just walks away, her melodic laugh bouncing off the walls even after she rounds the corner to head to the nurses’ station.

 

Hajime supposes he can take that as his answer.

 

 

 

He doesn’t spot Oikawa until quite a while later, though once Iwaizumi notices the doctor is back on the E.R. he does a good job of sticking as close to him as possible to make sure he’s alright, even if he doesn’t realise it at first. Something about Oikawa is softer than it usually is at work - Hajime can’t put his finger on it, but he’s lost that polished sort of professionalism that’s impressive for such a young doctor. His posture as he strides his way across the E.R. and from room to room is the same as it always is, but the confidence that usually drives it is understandably shaken.

 

There’s a soft sort of soreness around his eyes that Iwaizumi spots now and again when the light isn’t glaring against the lenses of his glasses - he’d swapped his usual contact lenses for them, most likely to hide his face. They don’t talk about it; they don’t acknowledge Oikawa’s breakdown nor whatever else just happened between them in the little room at the end of the corridor. Instead they just wordlessly work around each other like they usually do, bar the occasional request Oikawa makes of Iwaizumi with a soft, less bouncy tone than usual. Hajime isn’t sure if it’s just coincidence or if the other nurses and staff are giving them (or Oikawa?) space on purpose, as if they’re giving the doctor a chance to build himself back up. As if Hajime being there will help in a way no one else’s presence would. ...Then again, that’s probably just him reading into things far too much.

 

Gradually Oikawa grows slightly more peppy, throwing smiles around at last and shedding some of the melancholia that had loomed over him. No matter how much he seems to pull himself around in the next couple of hours though, the weariness that seems to cling to his very bones doesn’t evaporate. It hits 9pm and Iwaizumi is finished with his shift; since he’s been at the nurse’s station filling out forms the past half hour and not entangled with a patient or any treatment, he’s actually free to leave. With a relieved sigh sent heavenward he unclips his I.D. card so he can swipe it at the door of the staff locker room, which opens with less cajoling than normal. An oddly good sign for such a terrible day.

 

When he heads towards his row of lockers, he’s surprised to see Oikawa there with his own locker already open, pulling off his doctor’s coat in silence.

 

They didn’t originally have lockers close to each other - Oikawa had actually managed to swing one in the first row by the door (prime real estate here) when he’d first arrived. However, after that fateful day Iwaizumi had both made him laugh and whine in protest within five minutes and Oikawa had declared him as his Favourite, the young doctor had somehow miraculously swapped with someone directly opposite Iwaizumi’s locker, and the nurse was doomed to even more pestering before he’d even managed to clock in (or out). 

 

Oikawa throws him a glance just before Iwaizumi’s sight is obscured by the tunic he’s pulling over his head; once he’s tossed it on the bench between them and is rifling through his locker for his T-shirt - his hoodie takes up so much damn _room_ in there - he breaks the silence. “You’re going home?” It’s such a pedestrian question - it’s hardly as if that much isn’t already obvious, but it’s a start.

 

“Mm, my shift ended just now.”

 

That catches Iwaizumi by surprise, and has him turning to glance at Oikawa before he’s even pulled his shirt down all the way. “You mean to say, you’re going home _on time_?” Sure, Oikawa had had a rough day, but even that wasn’t usually enough to break his worst habit of overworking himself.

 

Oikawa’s smile isn’t happy as he pulls on his soft-knit sweater - it’s somewhat grim. “Got to start somewhere, right?” 

 

Iwaizumi glances at him at the corner of his eyes as he pushes his work sneakers to the side with his foot and pulls his uniform pants off, where they join the crinkled mess of his top atop the varnished wood. He simply hums, waiting until he’s managed to pull his jeans up and over his thighs to do anything else. He wants to ask Oikawa if he’s blaming himself; wants to make sure the others knows that he hadn’t been so exhausted that he’d been that much of a threat to the patient. It was just an unfortunate situation at a time where Oikawa was vulnerable to a plague of doubt.

 

He wants to do and say all of that, but he can’t bring himself to. Not because it isn’t true (it is), but Oikawa _is_ tired, has been for a while, and anything that makes him actually give himself a damn break once in a while can’t be a bad thing. “Is this you turning over a new leaf?” he asks instead, trying to remain casual as he finally pulls his hoodie over his head and takes his boots out of his locker. It’s well and truly winter now in Tokyo, and it’s gotten to the point where Iwaizumi has to dress for warmth even if it is a pain in the ass cramming everything in his locker. Oikawa is already dressed, with a slightly worn but warm-looking duffel coat and a fashionable scarf tucked in and around his neck for good measure. He sits on the bench to wait for Iwaizumi to finish lacing his boots, picking up the nurse’s scrubs dumped beside him and folding them neatly. 

 

“Mm. You were right - there are people here that need me. But they need me at my best.” Oikawa had done his best for that patient earlier, Iwaizumi doesn’t doubt it, but he also knows there’s a dark part of the doctor’s brain that likes to pull him into doubt. He can almost imagine what it’s whispering at the back of his mind: _if you had been in top condition you might have done more, been faster, been **better**_. Oikawa might come across as pompous and annoying a lot of the time, but he still wears confidence so damn well that it almost physically pains Iwaizumi to see him without it. “To be my best I need to be more sensible about how much I work. I have a great team around me here, right?” Iwaizumi can’t help the smile that comes to his lips to hear his words echoed back at him. Sometimes Oikawa can be so damn stubborn that it feels like he’s stuck talking to a brick wall most of the time, but it seems he’d actually _listened_. “I suppose they can manage without me when I’m not on call.”

 

And fuck if Iwaizumi isn’t relieved to finally hear it.

 

Despite his constant, _very_ vocal complaints about being Oikawa’s minder, Iwaizumi doesn’t actually mind bringing him lunch every day, or making him coffee on breaks, or even manhandling him onto an empty cot when he needs a power nap. But it’s hard to see someone you care about-- someone you _love_ constantly push themselves to the brink of physical and mental exhaustion. Always having to guard Oikawa to make sure he doesn’t launch himself off the precipice is actually kind of emotionally exhausting for himself. Now that Iwaizumi has finally opened himself up to his feelings for Oikawa, he’s not sure if he can deal with Oikawa always teetering on that edge.

 

Iwaizumi doesn’t want to be Oikawa’s minder, he just wants to be his support. Oikawa should be able to take responsibility for his own health most of the time. Maybe that was what they needed to finally take that final step.

 

Maybe that’s what Oikawa thinks too, because once Iwaizumi has finally fastened his denim jacket over his hoodie, grabbed his bag and stored everything he;s leaving behind in his locker, he smiles softly and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose in the sweetest gesture Iwaizumi has ever seen. They head out of the changing room, waving to the odd coworker they recognise on their way out of the hospital until they’re finally stepping into the bitter chill of a Tokyo winter’s night. “It’s still early -” only by Oikawa’s standards, Iwaizumi wants to point out. Nine in the evening is plenty late for him, especially when he’s back here in the morning. “Shall we grab something to eat first?”

 

There’s a hopefulness in Oikawa’s tone that he’s attempted to smother in forced casualness that tells Iwaizumi that this is more than just a casual invite from coworker to coworker. This is an offered hand, an acknowledgement of whatever’s been growing between them since the first time the endearment of ‘Shittykawa’ left his mouth; of whatever they could no longer ignore earlier in that tiny storage closet. An acknowledgement, but also a tentative invitation.

 

Iwaizumi feels heat crawl up the back of his neck, shoves his balled fists deeper into his pocket and shrugs his shoulders to fight against the feeling. He’s staring at the ground to avoid looking at Oikawa when he says “yeah, alright then.”

 

When he finally lifts his head up to look at the man beside him, Oikawa’s smile is blinding in its beauty.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! I rarely use tumblr but I want to start! HMU @ [tumblr!!](http://ikiteiruka.tumblr.com/)


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